


The Savior's Hazelnut Divine

by dicklomatticimmunity



Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicklomatticimmunity/pseuds/dicklomatticimmunity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/tronkinkmeme/1551.html?thread=117263#t117263">this prompt</a> at the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/tronkinkmeme/">TRON kinkmeme</a>. Flynn brings newborn Clu a jar of Nutella. Clu likes the hazelnut spread so much he becomes addicted.</p><p>Published to LJ on January 30, 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

PART 0001  
~~~~~~~~~

Clu reached a pair of fingers into the plastic jar. He withdrew them moments later, a thick, brown substance sticking to his flesh. He frowned, unimpressed.

"What is this called again?" Clu asked, slowly raising his fingers closer to his face, taking in the details of the substance.

"Nutella," Flynn said. He crossed his arms and propped his feet up on an unoccupied chair between himself and his program. "And let me tell you, man, it tastes great on just about anything."

Clu continued to frown, but he raised his fingers to his lips and gave them a slow lick. He paused, searching in his programming for the right references to things his User would understand.

"Hazelnut," he said before letting the spread finish dissolving. He found the texture odd - creamy yet thick - but he would be lying to himself if he said he disliked it. He licked the rest of it from his fingers, savoring the flavor over again.

It was... good.

Flynn laughed. Clu looked up at his User, wondering what the Creator found so amusing.

"You like it, don't you," Flynn asked, a wide grin on his face. "You should try it on crepes, man. I'll program the recipe into your memory tonight, after I leave here. I'll even put the ingredients you'll need in your kitchen."

"Crepes?" Clu asked, unfamiliar with the term. He searched his memory, trying to find a definition.

"One of the best desserts known to my world," Flynn said as he repositioned himself, fingertips interlacing behind his head as he leaned back. They were at End of Line at a small table towards the back, seated away from the crowd of programs around them. Clu looked around and noticed Tron standing nearby, close to them but not participating in the conversation. The security program was looking out over the Grid, as if trying to find a threat lurking in the darkness.

"Crepes," Clu repeated, looking back at his User. The description came to him, finally. "A very thin pancake, served with a variety of fillings." Clu paused, making the connection. "Such as..."

"Nutella, yeah," Flynn finished. "Goes great with strawberries, bananas, and whipped cream too." He grinned, screwing the lid onto the jar and passing it across the smooth table to his program. "Keep the jar. I'm sure you'll love it."

Clu took the oval container and stared at it, analyzing it. Flynn rose from the other side of the table and went to go talk to Tron.

Clu was still reading the label, taking as much in as he could, when Flynn said his goodbye minutes later. Clu got up and stood next to Tron, watching with the security program as Flynn left.

After Flynn was gone, Tron looked over to Clu. He noticed the plastic container in the other program's hand and leaned over to get a closer look.

"What is that?" Tron asked.

"Nutella," Clu said, not taking his eyes from the container. "A gift from Flynn." He look at Tron, and then he unscrewed the lid. He held the open jar up for the other program. "Want to try it?"

Tron reached cautiously into the substance with one finger, withdrew it, and licked at the dark spread. He paused for a moment before looking at Clu. Tron took his time trying to find the words he was looking for.

"It's... interesting."

Clu looked down at the container as he slowly screwed the lid back on.

"I agree."

Clu wondered what this 'crepe' Flynn had spoken of was like. He had a feeling he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

Though his User had given him a great deal of knowledge, cooking still took skill. Every time Clu attempted to make one of those 'crepes', he either burned it or flipped it over too soon, causing it to tear apart. He hadn't realized that making such things required delicate work, something he was capable of but not quite used to. He would never admit to anyone, not even himself, that even he found some things difficult to work with. He was the son of the Creator; he could do _everything_ flawlessly.

Half an hour and ten attempts later, Clu had made a small stack of edible crepes. He walked into the dining room of the space Flynn had made his 'home' and sat down at the small table there. He reached for the jar of Nutella in the center of the table and opened it, ready to prepare his snack.

Clu found the details he was looking for as he retrieved the recipe he had been working with and began to spread the Nutella over the center of the thin pancake. He paused, staring down at his knife and noticing how the spread clung to the metal.

Like peanut butter, he thought, making the connection to a paste-like food Flynn had shown him many cycles ago. Clu, satisfied with his work, put the knife down. Referring to the recipe again, he folded the edges of the crepe over. He put the triangular shape on a second, empty plate in front of himself.

It looked like it should, Clu thought, comparing his final product with the recipe's example. Satisfied that there were no imperfections, he sliced a piece of the crepe off with a knife, poked it with a fork, and ate it.

Perhaps he should have added other ingredients, as Flynn had suggested. There wasn't really any difference between this and having the Nutella by itself, except the pancake had a way of containing the Nutella. He had to admit that the crepe itself had its own unique flavor, one that he found to be... quite delicious. It was nothing to the Nutella, though, which was... rich. Exquisite. Smooth. Like liquid chocolate melting into little bits inside his mouth before exploding with intense, perfect flavor.

Clu took his time with the rest of the crepe, not believing that such a simple dessert could have such intense flavor. When he was finished, he felt dismayed that it was the end, that he had eaten the whole thing. He had tried to take his time to savor it, to classify the flavor in every way possible. Perhaps he had eaten too quickly after all.

Of his six attempts, only three crepes matched the recipe's finished result exactly. He removed the next pancake from the stack and began to fix it, repeating the recipe he had stored in his memory.

He would need more Nutella, he thought. He wanted to share this with Tron. He wanted to share this with _everyone_.


	3. Chapter 3

Clu couldn't help but rave about Nutella the next time Flynn visited.

"And I made some more crepes the cycle after that," Clu continued, walking beside Flynn. "I shared them with Tron. He said they were good, but I really think he's just being humble about how delicious they are." He turned to face his User. "Flynn, you've gotta bring me more Nutella. We could open up a creperie. We could serve crepes to all of the programs!"

"Easy there, dude," Flynn said, putting a hand on Clu's shoulder. "Don't worry, I brought you some more. I think we should hold off on that creperie, though. We've got other things to build." He removed his hand from Clu's shoulder and reached into his pocket. He produced another plastic jar of Nutella, which he tossed to Clu. Clu caught it, the initial disappointment at Flynn's words vanishing in an instant, replaced with a wide smile. The lighting of Clu's jacket brightened several degrees, as though reflecting the program's delight.

"Just make sure you don't use it all at once, man, alright?" Flynn smiled. "I can sense how much you love that stuff, but you should think of it as a treat. I don't want you making your entire day's worth of energy from it." He noticed a puzzled look on Clu's face. "Is there something wrong, dude?"

"I tried to find other uses of it," Clu responded. He had made crepes, true, and since it was a spread, he understood that it could be used in much the same way as any other spread. He felt like there should be more to it, though. It was too sweet, too delicious to be used merely for, say, applying to toast.

Flynn grinned. He looked over at Tron, who stood beside him.

"Did he ask you about this?" Flynn asked the program.

"Yes," Tron replied. "Though my User has not programmed information about Nutella into my system. I was therefore unable to help him."

"I knew you would," Flynn said, looking back at Clu. He gave Clu's shoulder a firm clap. "You need to be more creative, dude. I know you'll find something."

Clu nodded. As he followed Flynn, he rolled the jar between his hands. Tron and Flynn seemed to be far away as he considered the thick, sweet substance, wondering what Flynn could have possibly meant. How did Users use the spread, outside of using it with food?

He pocketed the Nutella as Tron and Flynn discussed bugs that had been discovered in a nearby sector. In the depths of his programming, however, he considered Flynn's words.

_You need to be more creative, dude._

He would need more Nutella. Perhaps if he had enough of it, he could discover something new.


	4. Chapter 4

Several cycles had passed. Flynn continued to bring Nutella on every visit, much to Clu's delight. Clu has even asked for extra jars so he could share it with other programs. This hadn't been met with much enthusiasm from Flynn, though, which frustrated Clu a great deal. Clearly, Flynn didn't understand just how incredible Nutella was.

Tron was becoming increasingly disturbed by Clu's and Flynn's disagreements over the spread. Worse, he had to deal with Clu when Flynn wasn't around. Clu would vent at him, repeatedly telling his fellow program that Flynn simply didn't understand, that Flynn should just let him 'build a damn creperie already'.

Tron had seen other programs behave in this manner at End of Line. He had seen what happened when programs couldn't 'get their fix', and he was sure that the same thing was happening to Clu.

Clu was becoming addicted.

Tron watched from afar as Flynn and Clu discussed plans to develop the Grid. He knew that what Flynn didn't see was how Clu brought a jar of Nutella almost everywhere he went. He knew that Flynn didn't see how Clu would scoop the substance onto his fingers and lick them clean. Flynn didn't see how Clu would tilt his head back ever so slightly and close his eyes as he tasted the Nutella, as if in ecstasy. And Clu would do this out in the open, as if all that existed was him and the Nutella.

Tron knew something had to be done, soon. He couldn't let Clu go on like this. It was his job to not only make sure that the Creator's work was virus- and bug-free, but to make sure that the program who ran everything while Flynn was gone didn't... malfunction.

The very idea of Clu developing a coding error because of the Nutella was horrifying.

Clu stepped away from the bar stool he had been seated at and walked over towards the nearby window. They were not at End of Line, but at an establishment in Tron City that Flynn said was designed to look like a 'pub' from the Users' world. Flynn got up as well, but before the User could join Clu, Tron stepped away from where he had been standing and walked over to Flynn. He put a hand on the Creator's shoulder.

"We need to discuss a serious matter," Tron said quietly, not wanting to be overheard by Clu. Clu was distracted, true, but he was only ten feet or so away, and even in the crowded pub, Tron was sure his voice could be heard from that short distance.

Flynn, not one to immediately take anything seriously, laughed, but sat down. "A serious matter? Man, those glitches in sector eight never go away, do they."

"No, nothing like that," Tron said as he sat down on the recently vacated barstool. "It concerns... Clu." He looked seriously at Flynn, hoping that he could get the Creator's attention.

It worked. Flynn frowned. He had a feeling he knew what Tron was referring to.

"He's addicted, isn't he," he said, sadness in his voice. Tron nodded. Flynn's frown deepened, and he leaned back slightly.

"I was afraid of that." Flynn chugged the rest of his beer before putting the empty bottle on the counter in front of him.

"He needs help," Tron suggested, feeling as though his words inadequately summed how desperate the situation was. "It's affecting how he works. He has to stop eating it."

"No, what he has to do is learn," Flynn replied cryptically. The bartender replaced Flynn's empty bottle with another beer, and Flynn took it, popped the top off as though he had done it several hundred times before, and drank heavily. When half the bottle was gone, he put it down and looked at Tron, a look of complete seriousness on his face.

"Tell me what you've seen so far," Flynn said, his voice hushed, barely loud enough for Tron to hear.

Tron nodded and obliged.

"He carries it with him everywhere," Tron began. "He's constantly eating it. When he runs out, he becomes..." Tron paused to look over at Clu. Satisfied that the master program was still distracted, he turned back to Flynn and continued. "Agitated. He keeps saying he needs more. He wants more, not only for making crepes, but for using in other forms of energy as well."

Flynn finished his beer and put the empty bottle on the counter. A bartender appeared shortly, as though he had only been a few steps away the entire time.

"And get a drink for Tron, too," Flynn said as the bartender reached for the empty beer bottle. The program nodded and hurried off to comply. Tron looked at Flynn, who gave the security program a serious stare. Tron was giving him a curious look because he had not ordered a drink.

"I'm going to tell you what I think is happening," Flynn whispered. "And then I'm going to tell you what to do about it. And then I'm going to tell you what to do about it if it gets worse." The bartender program returned with another beer and with a blue liquid in a tall glass. Flynn handed Tron the glass before popping the cap off his beer. He didn't want to tell Tron about this sober, and if he didn't want to tell Tron about it sober, there was no reason Tron should have to listen sober either.

Flynn began to tell Tron about what he thought was happening. Tron listened, not wanting to miss anything in case - no, there was no question about it - he would have to use it to help Clu.

Clu continued to look out at the city. With his back to Flynn and Tron, he slipped his fingers into his jacket pocket. He withdrew the jar of Nutella, and when he reached into his pocket again, he withdrew a small metal spoon. He removed the jar's lid, pocketed it, and then dipped the spoon into the dark, sweet spread. He withdrew it slowly, watching the Nutella cling to the metal before bringing it to his lips and licking at the smooth hazelnut. Tron was wrong and he knew it; he was perfect, incapable of becoming addicted to anything.

He had no idea how far gone he was.


	5. Chapter 5

Clu _craved_ Nutella.

It had been so many cycles since Flynn's last visit. The jar Flynn had given to him then lasted only fifteen millicycles. He had known that Flynn wouldn't return for at least another hundred millicycles, and yet, despite knowing that, he had consumed the hazelnut spread as though his very life energy depended on it.

He was depressed. He couldn't stop thinking about Nutella. He wanted more, and he wanted more _right now_. He would follow Flynn through the portal and into the Users' world if that's what it would take to get his hands on some.

But for the portal to be open, Flynn had to be here. And if Flynn was here, he would be getting more Nutella anyway.

Maybe, just maybe, another User would appear, and he could make his escape to the real world then.

He looked over a map of the Grid splayed over a table in front of him. He was in his private lounge, plotting the best path to the portal, when he heard the door of his home _whoosh_ open behind him. He turned around to greet the visitor.

It was Tron.

"Clu," Tron said, impatience in his tone as he stepped into the large room. The door closed with another _whoosh_ behind him. "I've been waiting for you. We were supposed to go over the construction of program residences in sector five."

Clu stared at Tron. Now was not the time to bother him with such petty plans. He had other work to do.

"I'm sure you can find and eliminate all the glitches on your own, man," Clu said with a smile. "I have confidence in you." He turned back to his map. The portal was out beyond the reach of the Grid, so he would need to develop some means of transport -

"Clu," Tron said, irritation in his voice. "You know that Flynn wants you to pitch in with your own ideas for this. You might see something I've overlooked. I can only look at this from a security standpoint; you're the one that needs to create - "

"I'm busy," Clu interrupted, not turning to face the other program. He needed to create something that could move over the Sea of Simulation, because that's what currently existed beyond the Grid in that directi -

"Clu." Tron wasn't going to be ignored. He walked over to Clu until he stood on the other side of the table. He leaned down and looked the Creator's likeness in the eye. "You've been ignoring me this entire cycle. You've been holed up here, working on User-knows-what, but I know that it can't be anything Flynn intended for you to. You haven't even been to check in on the progress of th - "

"Shut. Up," Clu said harshly, meeting Tron's glare with his own. He had no interest in improving the Grid right now; his only interest was in acquiring more Nutella.

Tron rose slowly, never breaking eye contact with Clu. He needed to get through to Clu, but he didn't know what he could say that would sink in. He wasn't going to give up, though.

"Clu," Tron whispered, his voice less stern but more desperate. "You can't continue like this. Flynn has work for us to do and we need to do it for him. It's what we're supposed to do." He paused. If he had phased Clu, it didn't show on the program's face. "By the Users, Clu, you have to snap out of this. I need your help. Flynn needs your help."

Clu continued to stare silently at Tron. Tron waited, hoping that the other program had, at the very least, listened. He knew what the map on the table was because it was the same map Clu had been looking at the last time he had visited, before the beginning of the current cycle.

"Get out," Clu said finally. His voice was cold and bitter. He wasn't going to listen to this.

Tron was stunned into silence. He let himself relax, letting go of his frustration, admitting to himself now that he would have to give a little.

"Clu," he began quietly. "I just want - "

"Get. Out," Clu demanded. He didn't move, not even an inch.

"Clu - "

"You will leave, Tron," Clu said firmly, his anger becoming evident.

Tron raised his hands in surrender and gave Clu a concerned look. He began to walk towards the door, still facing Clu, hoping the master program would give his words a second thought.

Tron could tell from Clu's glare that the answer was no. He turned and left, the door whooshing open in front of him and whooshing closed as he headed down the hallway.

Clu snarled at the door before walking over towards the windows at the front of the room. He looked out over the city and over the Sea of Simulation to the area where the portal shone brightly when it was open.

"KEVIN FLYNN!" he shouted. "WHERE ARE YOU NOW?"

Silence. Nothing. Clu grit his teeth, frustration bubbling in his circuits.

"Your move, Flynn. Come on..."

Clu stared out over the city before deciding he should go into sleep mode. As he headed for his bedroom, he caught sight of an empty Nutella jar on the floor. He kicked it forcefully, sending it towards a nearby wall, where the plastic met the metal with a gentle crunch before it fell to the floor. Something in his programming told him he had woken only a millicycle ago, but he didn't care. The same function showed that, over the course of this cycle, he spent more time in sleep mode than he did awake, and he didn't care about that either.

Tron had noticed, however, and as he left the building where Clu's residence was, he wondered how many cycles would pass before fatigue was the least of Clu's worries.


	6. Chapter 6

Tron became increasingly frustrated over the next few cycles. At first, Clu was willing to let him into his residence, and though they accomplished very little, he was at least able to confirm that the master program was still taking in energy. He also spotted Clu at End of Line on a few occasions, though Clu was definitely not in a business mood when he was there. Clu was drunk most of the time when he was at the club, and Tron had been responsible for bringing the program home more than once.

After that cycle, though, Tron suspected Clu had stopped going outside. He kept a watchful eye on Clu's fifth floor apartment, unable to do much more than that because now, whenever he went to Clu's apartment, there was no response from the other side of the door. He knew Clu was in there, but the master program was either ignoring him or in sleep mode.

Tron knew he should contact Flynn, but the only means he had of doing that were supposed to be used for dire emergencies only. He had to admit to himself that even if no work was being done, the Grid was still, for the most part, holding together. Unless Clu decided to go on a rampage, the Grid was probably safe.

He did have another option, though, one that would probably work faster than contacting Flynn, but he was hesitant to use that too.

Tron mulled that option over as he approached Clu's apartment. He entered the building, aware that, if Clu was awake, he probably wouldn't be let in, and if Clu was in sleep mode... he would have to take action. He knew that Flynn wouldn't want Clu to continue on like this without good reason to do so, and as far as Tron knew, Clu wasn't working on anything.

Several flights of stairs and a walk down a hallway later, Tron stood in front of Clu's apartment door. He caught the flash of the motion sensor above, but the door did not open. Tron sighed and stepped to the side, knowing there was only one way to get through the door.

Tron pressed a fingertip against a small square wall panel. It made a soft _click_ sound as the panel receded into the wall. Tron withdrew his finger and the panel snapped open, revealing a small ten-digit keypad beneath. Tron punched in the master keycode - the code that would unlock any door in the Grid - and then hit a small green button in the corner. The door to Clu's apartment opened with a _whoosh_ , and Tron pushed the panel door back into place before stepping inside the large apartment.

Tron looked around slowly as he entered, unsure exactly of where Clu might be. He caught sight of a dark head of hair behind a large sofa in the living room directly ahead. He began to walk towards Clu when he stopped, pausing to listen.

Soft sobbing noises echoed in the room. Even as the door closed behind him, Tron could hear the sounds clearly.

Was Clu... _crying_?

Concerned, Tron continued forward slowly, not wanting to startle the master program. He paused again, standing at one side of the sofa. Clu's head was in his hands, his elbows propped up on his thighs. The leather jacket Clu usually wore was discarded carelessly on the floor a few feet away. Tron noted that the energy stripe along one side was glowing very dimly, if it was glowing at all.

Tron sat down on the sofa next to Clu and reached out to touch one of the other program's hands. The skin felt wet and cold, and before he could wonder why, Clu abruptly paused and lowered his hands.

Tron gave Clu a serious look, though he did his best to hide his frustration and anger. Clu needed help, and right now, all Clu had was him.

"Clu," Tron said quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Tron," Clu said, his voice a weak rasp, and before Tron could stop him, Clu wrapped his arms tightly around the other program. Tron blinked, unsure how to respond to this gesture, and decided ultimately to return it, wrapping his arms around Clu. Flynn had told him that this kind of affectionate gesture was soothing, and Tron could only hope it would have that effect.

"Clu?" Tron said, uncertainty in his voice.

"You're here," Clu said, trembling slightly in Tron's arms. "You're here. Is Flynn here too?"

"No," Tron replied, confused. "Flynn isn't here."

"I need him. I need you," Clu said, his voice wavering. "I need you to get him."

"What's wrong?" Tron repeated. His frustration was gone, replaced with worry. Tron knew what Clu was going to say next.

"Nutella," Clu croaked. "I can't stop. I need to stop. I'm... imperfect."

Tron paused, his eyes going wide. That wasn't what he had been expecting at all. He had expected Clu to ask for more Nutella, not... ask for help in getting rid of his addiction.

 _Oh no..._ , Tron thought, something else dawning on him. If Clu thought he was imperfect...

Tron didn't let that train of thought continue, knowing there were few places it would end, none of which were good. He held Clu closer to him, hoping to soothe the other program.

"You'll be fine," Tron whispered. "I can get Flynn to come here. I'll summon him."

"Yes," Clu moaned, his voice still cracked with light sobs. "Please. I need Flynn."

"Just promise me you'll drink some energy while I'm gone," Tron said, eyeing the discarded jacket and the faint glow of the energy stripe on it. Clu's energy must be nearly depleted. He could regret not being here sooner later; for now, he was glad he had gotten here when he did.

"Okay," Clu said, withdrawing his arms from around Tron. The security program let go as well and got up, heading for the kitchen. He came back with two glasses of energy and placed both of them on the table in front of the sofa.

"Drink," Tron urged, and Clu took one of the glasses and drank it slowly. The energy stripes on Clu's jacket and boots suddenly glowed brightly, as though they had been long deprived of sustenance. Tron waited until Clu finished the first glass and was starting on the second before he spoke.

"I'll be back in an hour," Tron said. Clu nodded in response, and Tron headed for the front door.

As soon as Tron was outside Clu's apartment, he ran. He rezzed his lightcycle into being as soon as he was outside and sped to the security tower nearby. Once there, he derezzed the vehicle and ran inside, taking the elevator to the top floor.

Ten seconds and a security code later, Tron entered his office. The large suite consisted of two rooms. He stepped into the smaller one, the one with his desk and large table that held maps, surveys, and other data on all of the sectors. He walked past the large table and towards a door, which opened as he approached. He entered the second room.

This room was empty. Tron paused at the doorway and then stepped forward slowly. The floor lit up in cascading shades of blue as he stepped closer to the center, each step illuminating a ring of floor tile. He stopped in the center of the room, removed his identity disc from his back, and held it above his head.

The ceiling - a clear roof that gave a perfect view of the sky - opened, the sheets of glass pulling away from the center in rings that receded towards the edges. At the same time, the center tile Tron was standing on rose upwards until the floor tiles around him resembled a raised platform.

Tron poured his thoughts into his identity disc as a tower of white light surrounded him. The white light surged upwards, carrying his thoughts to the Users' world, to the only other person he could think of to get word to Flynn.

 

Alan groaned, barely aware of the soft beeping sound coming from his nightstand. He sighed and rolled onto his side to give the pager a vicious glance. He stared at it for several long moments before snatching it, wondering what Kevin was doing at one o'clock _in the freaking morning_ that warranted his attention so badly.

Alan noted the number of Kevin's office at the arcade and continued to scroll to the first line of text.

_It's Tron._

That made Alan worry. Alan hastily read the rest of the message, his eyes going wider as the message continued on. When he was finished, he hurriedly got out of bed and headed for the living room. He picked up the phone in there and dialed Kevin's home phone number, certain that this wasn't some sort of prank and just as certain that Kevin needed to know what was going on.

The phone rang four times before Kevin picked up.

"Dude, it's one o'clock," came Kevin's drowsy voice. "And it's a Tuesday. I was planning on being on time for the meeting tomo - "

"There's a problem on the Grid," Alan interrupted. He was aware that yes, it would have been a miracle for Kevin to be at a meeting on time, and yes, he had just messed with that miracle, but now was not the time to care about such things. "You should get down to your office."

"Whoa, man," Kevin said. There was the sound of rustling bedsheets. "Calm down. Everything was fine when I was there this afternoon."

"It's your C-L-U," Alan said. "He's acting funny."

"How do you - "

" _Tron_ sent me a page," Alan said, putting emphasis on the name of his program. "He said Clu is suffering from addiction withdrawal and that he's barely able to function. Says Clu considers himself imperfect, and if your stories about how much Clu wants perfection are true - "

"I get it, man," Kevin said, succumbing to the speech. "Meet me at the arcade in twenty minutes?"

"I'll be there," Alan said and promptly hung up. Five minutes later, he was dressed and in his car, heading for the arcade.


	7. Chapter 7

Tron returned to Clu's residence. He reached for the panel he had used earlier, but the door slid open in front of him without need for a code. Tron entered, intending to support Clu until Flynn had arrived to take care of him.

There was a problem with that plan, Tron realized, as he rushed forward towards the sofa. He didn't see Clu from the apartment entrance, and when he stepped in front of the large, fluffy sofa, he could see that he wouldn't be doing any comforting in the immediate future.

Clu was gone.

Tron hurried outside, rezzed his lightcycle into existence, and sped off down the long street. There were only a handful of places he knew Clu frequently spent his time, but given the Nutella addiction, he could no longer be certain that those were the most likely places the master program would turn up. He looked left and right, searching for any sign of Clu, when something in his peripheral vision made him look twice.

Tron braked suddenly, the tires of the lightcycle squealing as he looked skyward. Above him and to the left was a large series of freighter cars moving along a long, white track. He followed the glowing line to his right and found the track's origin: a tall building, at least fifty stories tall, protruded from the center of a large mass of buildings, blazing bright green against the dark sky.

 _That wasn't there before_. He looked back at the freighter cars, wondering what was being shipped so far away that it required such a means of transport. As he considered this, he caught sight of a program walking along the roof of one of the cars.

Tron was beginning to wonder if a new gridbug had found its way into the sector when he noticed that the program was humanoid. The program's identity became clear when he saw a solid stripe of white circuitry running down the center of the program's chest, highlighting the heavy, dark jacket the program wore.

_Clu!_

Tron's eyes followed the glowing track to its other endpoint. It appeared to go directly into a brilliant white light some distance away, off beyond the Sea of Simulation.

Wait a minute. That was the Portal.

_The Portal is open!_

The sound of a lightcycle screeching against gridphalt snapped Tron out of his moment of elation. Tron turned and braced himself, regretting that he had stopped in the middle of an intersection. He tensed and waited for the impact to pass, hoping he wouldn't derezz on the spot.

When no impact came seconds later, Tron uncovered his head and looked at the program astride the lightcycle that had stopped inches from his own. He was a tall program, with short brown hair and grey eyes hidden beneath large square-ish spectacles. Tron found it unusual that a program would need such eyewear on the Grid. He made a mental note about the suspicious spectacles as his eyes continued downward, stopping when he looked at the program's breastplate.

Eight white dots formed in the shape of a letter A glowed brightly against the black suit. Tron knew immediately that this wasn't a program.

_This is a User._

"Alan-one?" Tron was confused. He hadn't meant for his User to come here; Tron had only wanted him to summon Flynn.

"Tron," Alan said with a smile. "I got your page."

"But where is Flynn?" Tron asked, starting to feel panicked. "Clu is going to reach the Portal. With the Portal open, Clu could go to your wor - "

"Don't worry about it," Alan said, his smile broadening. "Kevin knows. He'll bring Clu back here." Alan slipped his thumbs beneath a pair of straps near his shoulders. "In the meantime, we have work to do."

"Work to do?" Tron had no idea what was going on. When Alan removed his hands from beneath the straps and turned, Tron noticed that his User was wearing what appeared to be some sort of - what did Flynn call them? Backpacks? - and was presumably carrying the necessary tools to do whatever work needed to be done.

"Flynn wants us to set up a detox system," Alan said. "It's the only way he'll be able to help Clu pull out of this."

"Detox?" Tron queried, though as he said it, he was searching his memory for the word. He needn't have bothered.

"Detoxification," Alan clarified. "Clu's become physically dependent on the Nutella. It needs to be purged from his system so he can function again."

Tron nodded in understanding before looked up at the freight train, the cars becoming smaller as they moved closer to the Sea of Simulation. If Alan said that Flynn was going to take care of Clu, he believed him. He looked back at Alan, ready to work with his User on whatever task Flynn had set for them.

"Did Flynn say where he was going to bring Clu?"

"Flynn said he's got a place in an area called the 'Outlands.' Can you show me where it is?"

Tron nodded. "We'll need different transport to get there. Follow me." He turned the lightcycle, heading to the Armory so he could grab a light runner. Alan followed him, barely a lightcycle length's distance between them.

 

Several minutes later, Clu had made it to the Portal without incident. _It's all mine now. It's all mine. I can have all the Nutella I want._ It was easier to not fight his cravings, and when he focused on that aspect, the depression and anxiety he felt over his imperfect system vanished.

The solar sailer came to a stop just in front of the large staircase that led to the portal. Barely able to contain his excitement, he rose from his crouched position atop the lead freight car and leaped onto the landing strip. He ascended the large staircase ahead, an overwhelming feeling of _yes, I did it!_ surging through his system. His circuits glowed in anticipation as he climbed the last step and walked forward onto the narrow catwalk.

Flynn was there. Flynn was standing in front of the Portal, blocking his path. Clu's circuits dimmed substantially, his excitement gone, his euphoria crushed, leaving nothingness in its place. He frowned; why was Flynn here? Wouldn't he have had to go to the arcade first? Had he been followed and not known about it?

Despair replaced the nothingness swiftly, and Clu knew he couldn't ignore his addiction now. He was imperfect. He had lost control over this Nutella - the Nutella _Flynn_ had given him, and he was never going to get it back.

"WHY?" Clu shouted, his voice booming in the near-still silence. Even though Flynn stood there, arms at his sides, relaxed, and without any intention to hurt him, he couldn't help but feel angry at the Creator. "This is your fault!"

"This is your fault, Clu," Flynn responded, his voice neutral, calm. "You let the Nutella take control of you. You have to control the Nutella, not the other way around."

"But you brought it here!" Clu yelled as he continued forward. He knew Flynn was right, but he wasn't going to admit it, not to anyone, not even to Flynn.

"It was a treat for special occasions," Flynn continued, not bothered by the accusation. "You let yourself become addicted."

"You kept bringing more!" Clu said, still advancing on Flynn.

"Because I had no idea it had gotten this bad for you, man!" Flynn said, sadness in his voice. "You know I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I took Tron seriously when he said you were having difficulties, but I didn't think - "

"Tron said _what_?" Clu seethed, and he lunged forward to grab at Flynn. Flynn grabbed at him first, though, a strong hand on his shoulder that squeezed hard, to the point of near-pain.

"He was worried about you, Clu." Flynn paused. " _I'm_ worried about you." Flynn looked into Clu's eyes, his own brimming with sorrow. It stopped Clu for a moment, made him consider that he really shouldn't be angry, that Flynn really _hadn't_ intended to hurt him with the Nutella.

A gleam of light on plastic caught his eye, and he noticed a container hiding in one of Flynn's pockets. Clu immediately reached a hand for it, everything else about this situation forgotten.

His circuit shut down and went completely dark a nanosecond later. Clu gasped, suddenly feeling very cold save for a small area around his shoulder where Flynn's grip felt vice-like against his synthetic skin. Flynn's touch was warm, and the circuit there was the only one on his person that glowed with any light.

Clu looked up at Flynn as he fell to his knees, somehow no longer able to support his own weight. Flynn crouched in front of him, hand still on the master program's shoulder. Confusion shone in Clu's eyes, and beneath that confusion, the program was heartbroken.

"Why?" Clu whispered, and a sob came out at the end of his word. "Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Relax," Flynn whispered, the sadness in his eyes softening. He wanted to help Clu, not punish the program for letting this get out of control. "I'm not going to derezz you. You're going to rest for a little bit, and then you'll be back to creating the perfect system."

"A little while?" Clu choked, panic in his voice now. Though Flynn had said he wouldn't be derezzed, a part of him didn't believe it. He deserved punishment for being imperfect, and he was sure that Flynn saw that.

"Just an hour or so," Flynn said quietly, and he smiled. "Get some rest, dude. When you wake up, you'll feel better."

For a moment, everything went brilliantly white. Clu could feel Flynn pouring energy into him, energy so strong that, for the most fleeting of moments, he felt as though he could do anything.

Something triggered in the depths of his programming. He felt himself falling forward into Flynn's arms, felt the warm heat that emanated from the User's body. As his User hugged him, he knew he was going to be okay.

Everything went black as Clu went into sleep mode.


	8. Chapter 8

"Clu," a voice said.

Clu blinked. The voice was deep, resonant. Clu groaned, and he attempted to turn over in his sleep. When he found that his own weight was holding him back, he gave up and tried to sleep as he was.

"Clu," the voice said again. "Wake up, man."

Clu recognized the voice.

_Flynn._

Clu opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was Flynn hovering over him, looking down at him with concern in his deep, blue eyes.

The second thing Clu noticed was that this room was completely unfamiliar. The sheets beneath him were dark in color, standing out against the bright walls and floor. Books lined a pair of shelves on one side of the room. There was a large window on the wall to his right, but all he saw out of it from this position was a black wall.

The third thing Clu noticed was the lack of pressure against his backside. He started to sit up, wondering where his identity disc had gone, but Flynn put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to lie down. That was when he noticed the fourth thing: a long, narrow, black tube protruded from the front of his right shoulder. It curved to his right, to the side of his head, and though he couldn't see the entire length of it, he noticed the other end hooked up to some sort of monitor that displayed numbers in flashes of green and red.

Confusion must have registered on his face because Flynn spoke up.

"A detox system, man," Flynn said. "Took some time to figure out how to get it to work with your circuits, but it's working."

Clu would have asked what a detox system was, but a sudden urge to sleep overcame him, and before he knew it, his eyes were closing.

 

When Clu woke up again, he was crying.

He turned onto his side and curled up, despair overwhelming him. He wanted - _needed_ \- Nutella, badly, needed it so much that he was suddenly desperate to finish the mission he had set out on. As he considered this thought, he was reminded of how Flynn had stopped him, of how the Creator appeared _out of nowhere_ right before he could reach his goal.

He was reminded of his imperfection, then, and determination was swiftly replaced with chaos.

It was a vicious cycle.

A warm hand was suddenly present on his shoulder, where the tube still protruded from his jacket. Clu tried to calm down, tried to control his sobs, but he couldn't, he simply _couldn't_ , not when he was so flawed -

"Clu," Flynn's calm voice said.

Clu paused, trying to think clearly again. There was still a tube sticking out of his shoulder. And -

"You're reprogramming me," Clu whispered, his voice cracked. His disc still was still missing.

"No, man," Flynn said reassuringly as he squeezed Clu's shoulder. "That's going to be up to you."

Clu turned his head to look at Flynn, confused. Flynn laughed and smiled widely.

"What, did you think I was going to do it all for you?" Flynn looked into Clu's eyes. "This is going to be all on you, man. I'm only here to watch over you until you make a full recovery."

Clu had no idea how he was supposed to pull out of this on his own. This wasn't something Flynn could just fix with a few lines of code? This was something only _he_ had control over?

Clu smirked. He could do something Users couldn't. _He_ had the power.

"That's the spirit," Flynn said with a grin, noticing the expression. He clapped Clu on the shoulder before rising from the bed. "Now rest up. I've brought some things from my world to show you. Things that won't have negative side effects if you enjoy them too much," Flynn added quickly, noting how Clu's eyes darkened at the mention of his world.

Clu smiled weakly at his User before lying on his back again. Seconds later, he was in sleep mode again.

 

Clu opened his eyes a millicycle later. He noticed that something felt different, and when he put a hand on his right shoulder, he noticed the tube was gone. The 'detox system', as Flynn had called it, was gone as well; the monitor was no longer set up on the table beside the bed.

He could also feel his identity disc in its place on his backside.

Clu sat up slowly to take in his surroundings properly for the first time. The room was silent aside from the quiet hum of code as it illuminated the floor and walls around him.

Clu was about to get up when Flynn walked in. Flynn smiled at him and walked over towards the bed, holding a glass of blue liquid in one hand.

"Take it easy, dude," the Creator said as he sat down next to his program. "How do you feel?" He handed the glass to Clu.

Clu took the glass and thought about the question as he drank. His circuits glowed brightly as the energy filled them, spreading life throughout his system. He already felt better, but he still had a lingering thought.

"I still think about Nutella," Clu confessed. He was ashamed that he hadn't rid himself of his imperfection yet.

"Don't worry about it too much," Flynn said as he rose from the bed and headed for the door. "Come with me. I've got something to show you."

Clu eyed his User warily as he got up. He knew Flynn wouldn't intentionally endanger him again, but a sense of distrust still lingered as he entered a small hallway, which led to a very large, brightly-lit room. As Clu took in the large window at the front of the room, Flynn led him to a small table with a chair on either side of it. On the table was a wooden board with squares imprinted on it and two bowls, one containing smooth, black stones, the other holding white, glassy stones.

Clu eyed the setup and then looked up at Flynn, who was smiling.

"Ever played Go before?"

 

Over the next few days, Flynn introduced him to at least six of what the Users called 'board games,' most of which involved strategy of one variation or another. They were in the middle of a game of Sorry!, a game which Clu had come to enjoy immensely, when the program spoke up.

"The Portal has been open since you got here," Clu stated as he moved a red piece five steps ahead. "How has it stayed open?"

"Another User visits me occasionally, when you're asleep," Flynn said as he waited for Clu to finish, and then he drew his own card. "He opens the Portal when he comes here and it stays open for a little while after he leaves." A card exclaiming SORRY! at the top was in Flynn's hand, but none of his pieces were at START, and so he simply discarded the card.

"Another User?" Clu queried. Of course there were other Users out there, but there was another one close to Flynn?

"Alan," Flynn added, deciding that giving a little information wouldn't hurt. "Tron's User. Alan's a great man. Makes sure I don't miss any important meetings."

Clu drew a 4 card and groaned, hesitantly moving one of his red pieces backwards. "You work together?"

"Yeah," Flynn said with a smile. "We became close friends after that." Flynn drew a card and moved a piece three spaces. His move finished, he looked at Clu, waiting patiently.

"You also brought Nutella with you," Clu said, his voice level as he reached to draw a card. He locked eyes with Flynn, looking intently at his User.

Flynn clasped his hands together on the table and returned Clu's gaze. He had been wondering when Clu was going to remember that.

"Yes, I did." Flynn paused, watching Clu's expression. "Do you want it?"

Clu did. But he could choose to not take it. He could _choose_. He might regret it, he might want it later, he might wish he had taken it now... but he could choose.

"No," Clu said.

Flynn smiled broadly. "Then we have made progress."

"My disc," Clu added quickly. "It was removed while I was sleeping."

"For reasons you will discover later," Flynn said simply. He continued to smile, though deep down, a great deal of uncertainty stirred.

Clu returned the smile and drew a card. He looked at the board, noticing that he still had a pawn at START.

"I'm sorry, man, but I'm going to have to bump you," Clu said as he picked the piece up and replaced one of Flynn's blue pawns with his own. He put the blue pawn back at its START as he discarded the SORRY! card.

Flynn laughed, a joyful, silly laugh. It was the best sound Clu had heard for a long time.

 

When Clu woke up the next day, Flynn didn't come in to greet him. Clu got up and wandered into the large room, wondering if his User had returned to his world.

The Portal shone brightly out in the distance beyond the large glass window. Flynn must still be here, then, Clu thought as he stepped through the transparent curtain towards the shimmering pool in front of him. This place, whatever it was, had a really great view.

The Portal. He could still go there. He could still go through and get more Nutella. If this 'Alan' kept coming to the Grid to keep it open, that meant he could go through it any time he wanted.

But where was he? He looked out through the window, trying to place this location on his mental map of the Grid. They definitely weren't in Tron City or anywhere near it; the suburbs of the city were visible from here. They had to be somewhere he had never been before, somewhere off-Grid.

He heard voices nearby. He turned, tensing, wondering where they were coming from.

"Alan," came Flynn's voice. "I know I missed a meeting, and I know they're not happy about it."

"They rescheduled for Thursday at eight in the morning," came an unfamiliar but decidedly male voice. "That's in another twenty-five hours. Promise me you'll be done by then?"

"If Clu hasn't recovered yet, I can't just - "

"Flynn," Alan said, his voice harsh. "You've been here for an entire day. I don't know how long that is in Grid time, but you should come back at least every eight hours. I can't stay at the arcade to keep the Portal open for you."

That didn't compute, Clu thought. Several cycles had passed, not just one. What kind of time measurement did Users use?

"You don't have to, man," Flynn said. "Just come back every seven hours and check up on it."

"And leave you here?" Alan sighed. "I can't do that. Not with you here."

"I've been doing this for a while, man," Flynn said, sounding irritated now. "I know you care, man, but you can relax. I'm not going to die here."

"Tron's worried about you," Alan said. Clu heard footsteps. He pressed himself against a wall as he watched Flynn and the User that must be Alan emerge from an area off to the right. "He wants to know if there's any way he can help."

"Not right now," Flynn said. "Hopefully, Clu will be in the clear soon. We'll return as soon as he's alright." He looked towards the bedroom door. "I should go check up on him. Take care, Alan."

"You too, Flynn," Alan said, and then he headed for another door directly ahead. Flynn went off towards the bedroom.

Clu saw his chance.

He stepped forward once Flynn was no longer visible and followed Alan. The sound of a lift moving could be heard as he opened the door just in time to see Alan disappear down a large, tall shaft, standing atop a glowing white platform.

Clu was about to jump down when everything went dark. Clu collapsed, suddenly feeling very heavy as he landed on the white tile at his feet.

"Hey!" Alan shouted from below. "Your lift stopped working!"

"I know," came Flynn's voice, which was very close. Clu turned his head to look up at his User, who stood over him, hands on his hips. Clu winced. He'd been caught.

"I know this is a dumb question, but could you fix it?" Alan shouted again, his words echoing several times off the rock walls.

"In a moment," Flynn said as he knelt down next to Clu. Clu watched and waited. He would have shouted, would have demanded more Nutella _now_ , but his mouth wasn't working.

"I know this is hard, Clu," Flynn said softly. "But it's only going to get harder if you let yourself continue to think like this. You need to be _responsible_ , Clu." He put a hand on Clu's shoulder. Clu felt energy pour into him again, turning his circuits bright white. "And I'm going to have to teach you that sooner than later, it seems."

Clu knew what was coming next. Sleep mode triggered, and as Flynn picked him up and hefted him onto a shoulder, he could hear the lift moving again.


	9. Chapter 9

Clu couldn't go into sleep mode properly that night. He thought more about the Nutella, not less, and worse, he had come to see the spread as the very _definition_ of imperfection, an imperfection he had fallen victim to. He worried that he would never be able to live, knowing he had once suffered from such a thing. Him, imperfect? He didn't think it was possible, and yet here he was, still craving a substance that rendered him incapable of thinking about anything else.

Clu finally did sleep. He woke up some time later, his systems awakening slowly as he sat up. He glanced out the window and noticed that Flynn was sitting at a table in the other room. Curious, Clu got up and headed into the main room.

Clu paused when he saw the jar of Nutella on the table Flynn was seated at. Flynn looked up, just then, and smiled.

"Hey man," he greeted enthusiastically. "We need to chat. Have a seat."

A flash of anger shone in Clu's eyes before replacing itself with controlled frustration. He walked slowly towards the table, eyes never leaving Flynn's. He stopped when he got to the table, pausing to look into Flynn's deep blue eyes before pulling a chair back and sitting down, his expression unchanged, arms crossed over his chest. He did not need this, not _now_. He was going to _try_ to work on this on his own, as Flynn had said he should. Having a jar of Nutella in front of him wasn't going to help.

Flynn put a bookmark in his book and closed it before putting it down on the table. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward. It was a huge risk, but he knew this had to be done, especially after what had happened the previous day. He could only hope he was making this easier for Clu, not harder, by taking this step this early.

"I can see that you're not... happy, right now," Flynn stated. "But you need to understand what you're thinking. You need to figure this out for yourself."

Clu said nothing, but continued to glare at Flynn as though he was preparing to send tanks in to blow up the space Flynn occupied.

"What do you think of Nutella?" Flynn continued, trying to sound optimistic. He wasn't supposed to be rattled by that glare; he was the therapist, after all - it was the patient's job to be emotional.

Clu said nothing at first. He continued to glare at Flynn, wondering what the User's motives for doing this were. He shifted in his chair slightly, then spoke.

"It leads to imperfection," Clu stated, as though it was fact, true of every program that ever came into contact with it.

Flynn had expected that. It wasn't what he had hoped to hear, but it was the truth as Clu saw it. It was all he could ask from his program.

"Think about that for a moment. Do you think it's really true?"

Clu appeared to consider this, but he didn't do so for very long before responding.

"It must be. Look at what it did to me." He wanted to squish that jar into the table and destroy it, bit by bit, until it didn't exist anymore.

Flynn let out a long, silent sigh. This was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated.

"What did it do to you, exactly?" Flynn asked. As long as he could help Clu think aloud, there was still hope.

"It disrupted my system," Clu replied. "It made me feel things I didn't know I could feel. It made me... imperfect, unable to function." He distinctly recalled one time where he had melted the spread and mixed it with some fruit juice Zuse had provided. It was the most delicious energy drink he had ever tasted, and even thinking about it now, it brought a sense of euphoria to his thoughts. It vanished quickly, though, because such experiments had nearly destroyed him, brought him where he was now.

Flynn took Clu's words in for a moment, trying to think of things Clu had implicitly said in those statements that he could work with.

"It had an adverse effect on you. You dislike it for this reason."

"Yes," Clu hissed, becoming more frustrated. Flynn remain calm, but he knew he was making his program angry by asking questions they already knew the answers to.

"Do you think it could have turned out differently?"

Flynn was relieved to see that Clu appeared to relax as the program uncrossed his arms and let them rest at his sides.

"What do you mean?" Clu queried, his tone skeptical.

"Do you think it's possible that you would not have had an adverse reaction to the Nutella?" Flynn elaborated.

Clu continued to stare at Flynn as he pondered the question. He wanted to deny it, to put the blame on Flynn and the Nutella. After all, he had never been corrupted before; why was he corrupted now?

Then again, he could have refused the Nutella, given it up. He could have been concerned earlier, when he started waking up sweating. He could have stepped away from it when he lost his enthusiasm for the highly-anticipated Arena and instead focused on getting to the Portal.

"Why did you remove my disc when I first came here?" Clu asked, dodging the subject altogether.

Flynn frowned at the change, but decided to go with it for now. Clu would only get angrier if he persisted.

"To make sure I didn't damage your code after I sent you into sleep mode at the Portal," Flynn answered. "I also didn't want to exacerbate any damage the Nutella might have done to you, but fortunately, there is no permanent coding damage. It's all in your head." For emphasis, Flynn tapped his own head on the side a few times with his index finger.

Clu thought about that, and then turned his head slightly. He reached behind him, and as he did, Flynn retrieved a black identity disc from the floor and put it on the table. Clu felt the empty space between his shoulders just then, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed earlier.

"You're still fine, Clu," Flynn said. "I checked. I was good enough at controlling the power surge that you're still as good as when I made you."

Clu looked into Flynn's deep, blue eyes, trying to connect the facts he already knew. Flynn had brought him the Nutella as a gift, not intending to hurt him. That was obvious from the way Flynn was taking care of him now and from how he had argued with the User named Alan about staying here.

Flynn would never hurt him. Flynn didn't give it to him as a joke or prank. Flynn genuinely thought he would like it.

Except he liked it too much, and now he was suffering the consequences. It _was_ his fault.

But he could choose to control it.

Flynn smiled as he watched Clu's expression soften, understanding visible on the program's face.

"How do I make sure this doesn't happen again?" Clu asked, his voice quiet, no menace in it.

"As I said at the Portal, you have to control the Nutella, man, not let it control you," Flynn answered. "You can start by setting limits... one crepe per cycle. Leave the jar at your place; don't carry it with you. I'll only bring a jar every other visit, if it will help."

Clu could get used to that, he thought to himself. But then something occurred to him.

"You told me that I needed to 'be more creative' when I asked you if Nutella had other uses," Clu stated.

Flynn laughed. "It's a spread, man. You spread it on things. You mix it with food. Dude, it's not complicated."

Clu had to laugh too, because he had known all along this might be the case. It was a delicious spread, but it was still just a spread.

"There are a lot of empty containers at my place," Clu said once he ceased his laughter. "I'm not sure what to do with them."

"Alan took care of that," Flynn said. "We have this thing in my world called recycling. A bunch of guys go around the city and collect plastic and paper, then take it away to break it down to its basic elements. It's then repurposed for other things." Flynn waved a hand when Clu looked confused. "It's a User thing."

Clu nodded as he reached for his disc. Flynn let him take it and stood slowly. "I think you're ready to return to the Grid."

Clu slid the disc into place on the back of his jacket and nodded. "Tron will be waiting for me." He paused, remembering something. "User Alan said that Tron was worried about you."

"Hopefully, Alan's taking care of him too," Flynn said as he headed for the elevator. Clu followed, ready to get back to work on the Grid.

_Meanwhile, in Tron City..._


	10. Chapter 10

"Moderation is key," Alan said as he ate dinner with Tron. Each of them had crepes, each of which was filled with strawberries, bananas, and Nutella.

"I understand, Alan-one," Tron said, slicing off a piece of crepe and eating it slowly, savoring the rich hazelnut. "How does addiction... work?" He had seen the effects of it, but he had no idea how it actually manifested within a program's system.

Alan wiped at his mouth with a cloth napkin, then spoke.

"Well, in the User world, a User is considered to be addicted to something when he or she is psychologically dependent on having more of whatever substance he or she is addicted to." He parsed his words in his head, thinking over them to make sure it was something Tron would understand. "Users are composed of several systems that work together. In one of these systems is an organ called the brain, which, among other things, relies on substances called chemicals. Am I making sense so far?"

Tron nodded. "I think so. This 'brain' is like an identity disc? And these 'chemicals' are like code?"

"Close enough," Alan affirmed, mainly because he didn't want to go too deep into that comparison. If he did, he might be here another hour. "These chemicals are always there, sending signals to the brain. Chemicals use blood to travel to the brain." He paused, trying to find another comparison.

"Like code traveling on a defined circuit?" Tron suggested.

"Yes!" Alan said, glad his program was understanding this so well. "Now when blood is on its way to the brain, it has to go through the blood-brain barrier. Certain things in the blood aren't allowed to go through it, such as bacteria - viruses, I suppose." Though human viruses did exist and were very different from bacteria, but he went with what he had for now. "But there are some bad things that can get through. When a User uses a substance that contains chemicals - code - capable of getting through the blood-brain barrier, it changes how they behave."

"So..." Tron put his fork down and looked at his User. "The Nutella was able to change how Clu behaved because it altered his code and got through his identity disc?"

Alan didn't think that was quite right. Programs had to have the User-equivalent of a brain in their heads, didn't they?

"Tron, when you remove your identity disc, do you still know everything that you know when you're wearing the disc? When it's attached to you?" Alan asked. He had to know now, because it was bothering him. What if the disc broke? The idea that a program could so easily become the User equivalent of brain-dead didn't make sense.

"Yes," Tron confirmed, and then he understood why his User had asked. "So even if Clu had been without his disc, the Nutella would have affected him in the same manner?"

"I believe so, yes." Alan sliced into his crepe with his fork and took a bite. "These are delicious. Flynn only ever uses Nutella as body paint, but I had a feeling - "

"As what?" Tron asked, catching the phrase, curiosity evident in his voice.

Alan paused, awareness at what he had said hitting him. He looked his program in the eyes steadily. "Could you pretend I didn't say that?"

Tron looked befuddled. "I do not see what was so harmful about your statement, Alan-one."

"Call me Alan, please," the spectacled User said as he finished his crepe. "As for what I said... well, I'll put it this way. What is Nutella, put in the most basic of descriptions?"

Tron considered this, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of crepe.

"A spread?" Tron answered, uncertain that was what Alan wanted to hear.

"Yes." Alan took a deep breath. "Sometimes, Users like spreading such 'spreads' on things other than food. Like each other."

Tron smiled. It was an intriguing thought.

"Now don't get any ideas," Alan said, pointing a finger directly at Tron. The very _idea_ of Tron getting kinky with Clu - or hell, _Flynn_ , for that matter - dear God, he hoped Flynn _never_ \- was disgusting, abhorrent. "Users who do that to one another are usually already - "

He stopped as Tron reached into the open jar of Nutella between them. Then, without saying anything, the program reached over and touched a hazelnut-coated fingertip to Alan's cheek. He drew a thick line down his User's cheek with the spread, stopping at Alan's jaw and pulling his finger away.

"Like that?" Tron asked innocently.

Alan had to laugh. He had to laugh because, in truth, he hadn't explain the concept of body paint very well. How silly he had been to think that Tron would be as dirty as he was.

"Yes, something like that," Alan conceded.

The door to Clu's apartment whooshed open, and Clu and Flynn stepped in. Alan turned, spotted Flynn and his program, and looked back at Tron.

"Looks like it's time for me to go," he said, standing up. He looked at Tron, who had just finished wiping his finger clean on a napkin. "Take care, Tron."

"Will I see you again?" Tron asked as he rose from his seat.

Alan gave Tron a speculative glance before looking at Flynn. Flynn had a bewildered expression on his face, one Alan didn't understand at all. He turned back to his program, seeing as he wasn't going to get any help from his friend.

"I'm not sure." Alan watched as Tron frowned, disappointed. Oh, to hell with it. "I won't appear as often as Flynn, but I'll do my best to come here when I can. I'll use the input-output towers to speak with you if I'm unable to physically be here."

Tron beamed. Alan hugged Tron, who returned the gesture somewhat awkwardly, before walking over to where Flynn stood.

"Ready to go back?"

"For now," Flynn said. He pat Clu on the shoulder. "Remember what I said, man. You know what you have to do. Now you just have to do it."

Clu smiled. "Consider it done. Until the next cycle."

"Until the next cycle." Flynn repeated. "See you later, dude." Flynn left the apartment, followed closely by Alan.

Once the door closed behind them, Flynn spoke up.

"You've got some Nutella on your face." They entered a nearby lift. Flynn had a devious smirk on his face.

Alan's cheeks turned slightly red. "I know."

The platform started to descend, too slowly.

"What were you doing," Flynn said with a grin, his tone suggestive.

"Nothing like that," Alan said harshly with reproach. "I let it slip that some Users like to use it as body paint. That's all."

Flynn's grin widened. "And he put it on your cheek. Alan, I think he worships you."

Alan stared down at his feet and shifted uncomfortably. Tron had been very eager to learn about the User world. If he hadn't been in a hurry to get back home, he would have loved to sit down with Tron, explaining everything. Maybe he could have even brought Tron home -

Except he didn't know if that was even possible, though he supposed that if Users could come here, the same was true of his world and Programs.

"It's nothing," Alan said dismissively. "He just wants to know more about our world."

"That's understandable," Flynn said. He looked over at Alan. "You know, you can come here more often if you like."

"No." Alan looked up again. "I shouldn't. I don't want Tron to think that I..." That he what? Would be here forever? Would always be there if Tron needed him? Damn, he _was_ becoming attached.

Flynn chuckled. "He might be jealous of Clu now, you know. You might not have a choice."

"I know." Alan's voice was sad now. He wanted to be here with Tron, but he couldn't be here too often or Tron would expect him to become a frequent visitor, like Flynn. He wouldn't be able to balance Lora, Encom, and the Grid.

There was a long silence. The lift hummed quietly as it continued to go down.

"Tron had better not be giving Clu any ideas," Flynn said finally.

Alan turned to look at Flynn. As he did, the lift stopped and the door opened in front of them.

"I think he already is."

 

Back in Clu's apartment, Clu stared at Tron.

"Was that Nutella on your User's cheek?"

Tron nodded. "He told me that Users use it as... body paint. They spread it on each other."

Clu had never considered such a thing.

"Why would Users do that?" Clu half-asked, half-wondered aloud.

Tron considered the question. "I don't know." He wished Alan had finished his sentence. Tron tried to retrace the conversation in his memory, to perhaps construct what Alan might have said. "It would have to be licked off at some point, wouldn't it?"

"To maintain efficiency and cleanliness, yes," Clu replied. The more he thought about it, the less he liked the idea. It seemed too messy, too unnecessary.

Tron considered the jar as he screwed the lid on. After several moments, he put the jar in the kitchen.

"Stranger and stranger," Tron said quietly to himself. Maybe, someday, he would see Alan again and he could ask for a demonstration of some kind. He was curious now, but he had no means of discovering more; there certainly wasn't any information of that nature in his memory banks.

Clu thought differently. He had better things to do with Nutella than to use it to decorate his circuits. Besides, he had to make the jar last the rest of this cycle as well as the next one. He couldn't waste it on experiments.

"Get some sleep, man. Flynn wants us to start work on sector eighteen tomorrow."

Tron smiled, glad to see Clu in a working mood. "Tomorrow. Meet you here?"

"Agreed," Clu said, walking to the front of his apartment and stopping in front of the large window.

Tron grinned and departed Clu's residence. Once outside, he gazed upwards at the nearest I/O tower.

"Alan," Tron spoke quietly. He stood there, as though trying to communicate to Alan without using the tower. Several moments later, Tron shook his head and rezzed his lightcycle into existence, heading for his apartment. For now, he was content with being able to work on the Grid with Clu again.

For now. He could only hope that Alan would return.

/END OF LINE


End file.
